


Sudden Arboreal...

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-03
Updated: 2005-11-03
Packaged: 2019-05-30 13:46:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15097892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Is he really just an accident waiting to happen?





	Sudden Arboreal...

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**Sudden Arboreal...**

**by:** Lori O. 

**Character(s):** Sam Seaborn  
**Category(s):** Humor  
**Rating:** CHILD  
**Summary:** Is he really just an accident waiting to happen?   


"You can't go." 

Sam paused as he walked into the bullpen and looked over at Josh who had barreled through the door on the opposite side of the room and was on a direct intercept course. Frowning at his friend he closed the file in his hand. "What?" 

"You can't go," Josh repeated, a bit breathless as if he'd raced into the room. While Josh _had_ been walking fast, it certainly couldn't have been that taxing. "Leo told me you asked for some time off, and I'm telling you, you can't go." 

Disappointment entered Sam, as visions of his vacation floated out the window. "What's come up?" 

"A thing," Josh said quickly. A little too quickly. 

"A thing?" Sam asked. "What kind of thing? Leo told me that the schedule was clear and that if anything came up Toby would be able to handle it for a few days." 

"That's changed. You need to stay here." 

By now they were in his office and Sam looked up at his friend as he rounded his desk and collapsed wearily into the soft leather chair. Dropping the file on the cluttered top, he took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "Josh, what's going on?" 

"Nothing," the other man shook his head, sitting down as well. "You just can't go is all." 

Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the chair and nodded. "Josh. I'm going to ask you one last time. What's going on?" 

His friend sighed. "I just don't think you should go." 

"Why?" he asked, slightly stung. "I'm exhausted, Josh. The State of the Union is over, the President is done with his rally trips to drum up support for the proposals he outlined in the speech. I _need_ a vacation. I have more clothes here at work than I do at my apartment and I'm forgetting what the sun looks like." 

Josh peered at him, his head tipped slightly to the side. "You do look like you need a vacation," he said finally. 

"Thank you." 

"But not skiing," he shook his head. "Why don't you go to an island somewhere? Maybe even do some sailing." 

"And what's wrong with skiing?" he snapped. "I don't want to go to an island. I want to head up into the mountains. I want cool, crisp air. I want to go skiing." 

He sounded like a petulant child, but he couldn't help it. He'd woken up one morning in a dingy, gray hotel room in a town he couldn't even remember the name of, only to receive an e-mail from an old college buddy talking about the ski trip they'd all taken together. And suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to get out of Washington, find a place with nice, deep powder and spend the day out on the slopes. And when he was frozen and tired of the wind stinging his cheeks, he wanted to sit in his room in front of a fireplace, drink a glass of good bourbon and read a book that was mindless and meaningless and purely meant for entertainment instead of government. The more he thought about it, the more idyllic it sounded, and he knew that if he didn't get out of here soon he was going to go stark, raving mad from the wanting. 

"Toby," Josh called out, startling Sam out of his revelry. "Come help me tell him he needs to go somewhere else for vacation." 

His boss walked into his office and frowned at Josh. "What are you talking about?" 

"Sam wants to go skiing for his vacation. _Snow_ skiing." 

Toby's frown was transferred from Josh to Sam. "Are you nuts? You can't go." 

"Why not?" Sam asked. "Leo already approved my vacation." 

"You're a klutz, Sam," Toby said. 

"He means that in the nicest way possible," Josh quickly interjected. 

"No, I don't," Toby shook his head. "You're accident prone. The last thing we need is for you to break your leg, or worse, your neck after you run into a tree. Why don't you go out on that hazard trap you call a boat? At least you're used to that." 

"I want to go skiing," he repeated. "You guys make it sound like I'm an accident waiting to happen." 

Toby and Josh looked at each other and frowned, causing Sam to stand up in anger. "I'm a grown man, you know? Amazingly enough, I've been living and taking care of myself for years before you two came along. I went skiing just three years ago with Lisa before you," he pointed at Josh, "ever came and recruited me for this job. And I didn't fall down _once_." 

"You fell off your boat," Josh pointed out gently. 

"You tripped over a plant in the White House," Toby pointed out none-too-gently. 

"I'm going," he declared, and snatched up a file off his desk and stormed out of his office in no particular direction. He brushed past C.J. and she turned and called after him, but he ignored her. He didn't need her adding her two cents on the matter. He was going, and that was that. 

~*~*~ 

He hurt all over. Everything from his toes to his hair hurt. And he knew he'd never live this down. 

The door to his hospital room opened quietly and he thought about pretending to be asleep, but figured it was better to just go ahead and get it over with. No sense pulling the bandage off inch by inch, just rip it off in one quick motion. Opening his eyes, he looked over and saw Leo standing in the doorway, perusing his form lying in the bed. 

"Leo?" 

"Sam." The older man walked into the room and set several magazines down on the table beside the bed. "I knew it was a bad idea to let you go. Especially when Josh told me where you'd headed off to. I nearly called and told you to come back home." 

He unbuttoned his coat and sat down on vinyl chair. "Toby and Josh are beyond mad. I had to keep them from coming with me because I'd afraid they wouldn't be able to contain their _I told you so's_." 

Sam groaned and leaned his head back into pillow on his bed. "I didn't break my leg skiing," he said. "I didn't come to a _sudden arboreal stop_ as C.J. so eloquently put it this morning in her briefing." 

Leo leaned forward. "You didn't?" 

"Don't sound so surprised," he snapped, edgy and irritable and unable to bear the older man's disbelief. "I told Toby and Josh that I was capable of skiing. Despite my less than graceful moments in the past like falling off my boat, or tripping over a box, skiing is something I can really do. I've been doing it since I was a kid. Do you know I once thought about trying out for the U.S. Olympic team in skiing?" 

"Really?" Leo questioned. "I wasn't aware of that." 

"I was 15. My dad had to go to New Zealand on business. Since it was my summer break he took me along; I spent my days skiing while he was in meetings. I was young and a dreamer and I thought for certain that I'd found my calling in life." 

"What happened?" 

He turned his head slightly, bitterness of the memory flooding into him. "My father said it was a stupid dream and a waste of my potential and he wasn't going to have a son throw away his life like that. So I wised up and threw myself into the debate team the next school year. Made nationals that year and he told me that was more like it. I've always loved skiing, though." 

There was a moment of respectful silence for the death of his dream, and for Sam to rub his eyes that had grown gritty with emotion. The drugs and fatigue had gotten to him and he was grateful for the tact the other man showed. The metal legs of the chair squeaked as Leo shifted slightly. "So if you didn't break your leg skiing, what happened?" 

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "I hit a patch of ice on the stairs outside my apartment as I was unloading my car." 

"You didn't," Leo laughed. 

It wasn't mean-spirited or malicious and Sam could appreciate the irony of the situation and the circumstances. "Yeah. But if Toby or Josh asks, let's say a cat tripped me up. Okay?" 

"You secret is safe with me, Sam. And the next time you want to go skiing, tell Josh you're going down to Barbados or something. It'll be easier on us all." 


End file.
